


blind discipline (it's useless)

by neurolingual



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, and I'm glad, but it did, i'm not sure how it happened, so this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-25 02:31:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2605316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neurolingual/pseuds/neurolingual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First of all, Laura's a couple of numbers off a thousand percent sure that she opened the door to a dorm room, not a labyrinth.</p><p>Of course, after all, she does live with a few hundred year-old roommate who probably drinks blood out of martini glasses. And three girls had gone missing with parasite lesions on their brains to satisfy the weird walk-into-the-light-and-don't-look-back vampiric cult leader Dean of Students, pilfering girls up from parties and turning their brains into goop that looks like nacho cheese. And giant mushrooms were a thing that happened,  probably were still happening.</p><p>But seriously. A labyrinth? How had Danny gotten lost in here, anyway?</p>
            </blockquote>





	blind discipline (it's useless)

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first carmilla fic and i'm usually used to writing fifth harmony fanfiction (lame right) so i tired my hand at something new, cause it's been a long time since i wrote orphan black fic or anything that wasn't fifth harmony. i promise i'm not a square so just give thins lil fic-y fic a chance.

The litote that was her lit term paper on _supernatural undertakings hidden in modern literature_ was the least of Laura's understated, ironic issues.

The fact that LaFontaine had burned away one of their eyebrows from an experiment Laura had _repeatedly_ scolded them for attempting in the first place had taken to spot number two.

Danny getting lost in a dorm room was taking precedent, especially since her horribly detailed text of, _lost in a dorm. room 215. possibly blood_ , was giving Laura a precarious amount misplaced and concerned, roof-high anxiety.

But she armed herself with a can of bear spray and flashlight the size of her middle finger anyway, because this was Silas, and she was half expecting a freakin' Chupacabra to pounce on her at any given moment.

The corridor where room 215 was located was lit dimly by a flickering light, looking as if it was hanging on to last bits of its life by the fraying fragments of its corroded wires. White wallpaper had blistered and torn around the seams of each rotting door, and floorboards creaked under each of Laura's tip-toed steps. Honestly, she could probably get murdered in this hall, stuffed under the floorboards, and, by the looks of this hall, no one would give a flying bat's ass if she had.

The thought of _Danny_ being murdered in this hall and stuffed under the floorboards gave Laura all the incentive she needed to care about a hundred flying bat's asses, at least. She clutches the can of bear spray closer to her chest and tries not to scream when she hears the floor rumble beneath her feet.

Room 215's unhinged door marker looms by its last screw above Laura's head, and she tries not to panic seeing absolutely _no_ light streaming out from the cracks. She holds her tiny flashlight between her teeth and grips the doorknob, and it's slimy and warm and probably _oozing_ , and Laura mentally adds to her to-do list to bathe in battery acid when she gets back to her own room.

It creaks open with all the heart-pounding, heart-dropping-to-your-butt lethargy of a poorly executed, indie horror film Laura prides herself in avoiding watching. And her flashlight doesn't beam against a surface of usually vomit and maroon painted dorm wall. It hits wet stone and Laura hasn't even opened the door all the way yet.

She'd rather not wonder why there's stone instead of cheap paint, but Danny's in here somewhere, so she'll play her Scooby Gang antics for as long as she can keep down the bile burning at her throat.

"Danny?" She whispers with her face pressed up against the crack in the door. Her voice echoes of the wet stone, and she hears dripping that _can't_ be synonymous with just leaky pipes.

Her shoulder holds heavy against the rotting wood, so she pushes the burden away and recoils at the _smack_ it makes against the stone.

The beam of light doesn't catch against anything in the middle of the room, and the daunting feeling of her upcoming game of hide-and-seek makes Laura wish she had just turned her phone off when she was still curled up under her blankets in fleecy pajama pants, and not wandering into her uncertain death searching for Danny in the middle of a labyrinth.

First of all, Laura's a couple of numbers off a _thousand_ percent sure that she opened the door to a dorm room, not a labyrinth.

Of course, after all, she does live with a few hundred year-old roommate who probably drinks blood out of martini glasses. And three girls had gone missing with parasite lesions on their brains to satisfy the weird walk-into-the-light-and-don't-look-back vampiric cult leader Dean of Students, pilfering girls up from parties and turning their brains into goop that looks like nacho cheese. And _giant mushrooms_ were a thing that happened,  probably were _still_ happening.

But _seriously_. A _labyrinth_? How had Danny gotten lost in here, anyway?

" _Danny_ ," she calls out again, and she hears her own voice march right back to her ears along with the dripping. Drip drip drip and _Danny_ , and chills down Laura's spine.

She shines light onto any surface that will grab it, which leads Laura to the floor (which is stone, too. Seriously, the architecture in the building). She almost vomits when a footstep smeared with blood drags down the bumpy stone pathway and into the blank unknown. It certainly doesn't help her already unbearable amount of shaking in her hands, nor the fact that she keeps thinking it belongs to Danny and _Danny Danny Danny_ and _drip drip drip_ and Laura seriously wants to get the hell out of here.

"Um, Danny?" Laura takes a millimeter of a step forward, almost slips in her shoes over the blood. "Yell if you can hear me, or if you're bleeding out or not bleeding out or are in this dark creepy dungeon hole _at all_."

Her ears are met with skittering, too close for comfort, and a mass definitely passes over her shoe, and the skittering falls deaf. The vomit burns in the back of Laura's throat. Her flashlight beam begins to dim, probably because Laura's had it on the entire walk from her dorm to here, and she taps it against her hand rapidly until it's back full force. She moves forward, too wary of the blood, and follows the echoes of the dripping and the curve in the wet stone floor.

Time passes of about five minutes, and the barely-there light streaming in from the door is the size of Laura's thumbnail, but there's still no sign of Danny but there's plenty of sign of the blood trail leading Laura far, far back. She just really hopes Danny isn't impaled, or slashed, or suffering from any lacerations on her beautiful, stupid wandering-into-labyrinths face.

Something skitters and Laura pushes the nozzle of her bear spray in its direction; it seeps out until Laura's tongue molds around the taste. She leaves her poisonous cloud, coughing and sputtering, walking faster than a pace of snail-like to find her lost girlfriend.

A quiet moan of pain flutters past Laura's ear, and she stiffens like a meerkat, snapping her neck to the cause of its utterance.

"Danny?!" She tries, met with another moan that sounds like it's desperately trying to cling to the letter _L_. The beam of her flashlight scurries across stone walls and stone floors, just barely catching the stained end of a shoelace meters and meters away.

She trips in an almost comical way -- she would have laughed herself if she wasn't running in place, trying to rocket towards what she hopes is Danny on the far side of this hell room. Her can of bear spray clinks against the floor, and she just manages to keep a grip against her flashlight as she scans the approaching area of more than just a shoelace.

She almost cries when she sees Danny's ripped pair of green jeans, stained close to mid thigh width blood (a few tears leak, then). Danny's ashy face and blood-stained chin perish under the shock of blue eyes and mane of red hair.

Danny's lip is busted, a hand curled against her sternum, like each breath pains her failing lungs. Laura slides down in front of her, flashlight discarded by Danny's foot, to kiss the crusting blood above Danny's left eyebrow.

Danny can just manage the beginning of Laura's name before her head's against Laura's chest; the erratic heartbeat, Laura's pretty sure, is deafening her broken girlfriend.

"God, you idiot." Laura runs both hands through Danny's hair, checking for bumps or hiss-inducing bruises as she goes, but Danny holds silent, shifting her forehead to Laura's collarbones. "How did- what- why are you _here_?"

Danny's dried lips crack open, but she whines in lieu of her answer, pulling Laura closecloseclose, until Laura can breathe in the hint of strawberry in Danny's hair, hidden under all the must.

"Can you stand?" Laura asks into Danny's scalp, and she feels Danny nod meekly, but doesn't feel Danny make any move to actually _stand_. Laura pulls back, one hand under Danny's chin and the other against the wet stone -- _gross_ \-- pulling Danny's eyes to her.

Danny closes her eyes and nods again, and Laura feels Danny's thigh twitch; a hiss stings her ears and Danny's hands flies to the wound in her thigh.

Laura's eyes follow it, and she wishes she had grabbed her first-aid kit like she had been contemplating before Carmilla shoved her out the door to search. She looks at the sleeve of her fraying gray pajama top, and without much second thought, tugs at her shoulder and _rips_.

It comes off cleanly, and Danny's bleary eyes almost sparkle. Laura's glad she stuck with Krav Maga all those years ago.

She slithers the torn sleeve over Danny's thigh and wraps it tight without much hissing complaint, and relief floods where Danny's jaw is clenched tight. Laura molds her hand around the back of Danny's neck and pushes her thumb against the heel of Danny's skull.

"Can you do this?" She asks, a hair away from Danny's lips. "Can you walk? I think you'd be too much for me to carry."

Danny's pushing up from the stone floor without Laura having to question twice, but Laura still supports most of her tall frame, since Danny's leg is useless to her.

"No more labyrinths," Laura mutters, squeezing Danny's hip lightly as to not elicit any more damage, dragging her flashlight beam against the stone floor. "A girl can have only so many heart attacks worrying about you."

 

 

LaF and Perry and Carmilla are waiting back in Laura's dorm -- well, Perry and LaF are waiting, Carmilla's lounging with her nose buried in a book with Laura's pillow stuffed under her head -- when Laura and Danny practically fall into the room and on the floor.

Laura tries not to laugh at LaFontaine's _clearly missing_ and _clearly drawn on_ eyebrow as she deposits Danny onto her bed. Perry rushes over and fusses about Danny's hair, picking away broken leaves and whatever else she can find. Carmilla barely graces the commotion with a flicker of her eyes.

"Dude, what even happened to you?" LaFontaine asks, hovering close to Laura's swivel chair, leaning forward to scan Danny's wounds. "You look like you almost died."

"She _did_ ," Laura scowls, plopping down next to Danny on her bed, molds into concern when Danny pulls a grimace.

"I didn't _almost die_." Danny wipes the soot off her chin. "I was hunting trolls."

"Tell me how that's not synonymous to _almost dying_ , again?"

Danny cuts her eyes to Laura's chin, slowly finding purchase and holding eye contact with Laura's _stern eyes_. "I was hunting trolls, and I followed one into the dorms. I got separated from my sisters, so the thing blindsided me one-on-one in 215."

"215?" LaFontaine blinks. "That's that labyrinth, right?" They eye the missing sleeve of Laura's top and Danny's wrapped thigh, where Perry works to slowly unravel it. "How did you even-"

Laura tosses her hands up. "Does _everyone_ know that there's a labyrinth on campus except me?"

"They do, cutie," Carmila chirps, the words rolling off her tongue, eyes never leaving the page. "That's where we all go to smoke pot."

"The gash on your leg looks superficial," Perry tuts, gliding into Laura's bathroom. "It hit skin, but it didn't go too deep."

"Deep enough for stitches?" LaF inches forward, purses their lips in acknowledgment of the gash. "Gnarly."

Carmilla's nostrils flare at the scent of fresh blood, and she all but throws her book against the wall and shuffles over to bury her nose into her blanket. Laura waves LaFontaine over to the candles and matches.

Perry emerges with gauze and cotton balls and a _lot_ of peroxide, and begins to tug down Danny's pants before Laura rushes forward and slams and hand against Perry's shoulder, cheeks pink and heart slow in her chest.

"Um." She drops her eyes to Perry's chin. "I can- I got that."

LaFontaine rushes back after the scent of vanilla wafts through the air, pulling Perry to her feet and leaving Laura and Danny and a roiling Carmilla, dragging Perry out the door like a child's balloon.

The door clicks shut and Laura runs her hand over her vomit painted palls and breathes deep, breathes in the scent of Danny's hair close to her nose and the vanilla and drowns out Carmilla's groaning.

Her hands fall to Danny's pants zipper, and she can't quite meet her girlfriends eyes. But she wants to clean Danny up before she bleeds all over her bed, so. "Why did you go troll hunting _alone_?" Laura feels her skin warm when Danny's hip bones jut out into view.

Danny rolls her eyes like it's her chore, helping Laura slowly shrug her jeans past the wound on her thigh. "I didn't go alone. I told you, I was separated."  
Laura dabs at the gash with her peroxide-d cotton ball, muttering _sorry sorry sorry_ when Danny's knee jerks back.

When the blood smears away, Laura's glad to see it's no deeper than what she would deem non stitch-worthy, working to patch up Danny's leg with gauze and tape. She leaves a hand on Danny's bare thigh, sets to work on wiping the dirt and blood off her girlfriend's face, bites down on a budding smile when Danny curls her fingers around the hand Laura has on her leg.

"It was stupid to wander off alone." She ducks to catch Laura's eyes, smiles when she finds them patiently waiting for her. And probably waiting for a massive apology. "But it's what I do. I keep the campus safe from trolls and vampires." Her eyes flick to Carmilla, still rolling around in her blankets, though a little less violently than before. "And I do it for pretty girls like you," she leans to press her lips against Laura's nose and smiles, "Babe."

Laura's cheeks heat to Kelvin degrees, and she dips her head under Danny's chin, kissing the skin where her lips fall against Danny's throat.

"Don't think you can flirt your way out of this," Laura grumbles, imagines that the angry letters of her angry words appear against Danny's skin, burn themselves into recognition there. "You owe me a new shirt and a can of bear spray."

Nimble fingers trace Laura's spine, and she breathes, slips further into Danny's lap and finds herself against her sheets, Danny's warm legs sealing her there.

"One new shirt and a can of bear spray." Danny nods, knocking her chin against Laura's scalp. Laura curls further into Danny, further into the matted sweatshirt and grimy skin, but keeps her lips against Danny's pulse to know she's still breathing. "I think I can work on that in the morning."

Laura drums her fingers to the thump of Danny's heartbeat in her throat and wonders if Silas will be suffering a huge troll outbreak come tomorrow morning.

At least she had bear spray. And a wounded monster slaying girlfriend.

She snuggles closer to Danny's chest and thinks she fares a high rate of survival. For the impending troll apocalypse, that is.

Generally surviving Silas was still up in the air. 50/50 at best. Even _with_ Danny curled up into her sides most night, fighting away the dragons in Laura's nightmares.

 

**Author's Note:**

> can someone teach me how to link on this website already b/c it'd be super cool of you to tell me what you though on my tumblr (which is also neurolingual) and it would save me so much damn time to be able to link you straight there instead of having to explain at the end of all these notes to go to my blog what the heck


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